Kinnikinnick full of bright red berries. Hairy golden aster everywhere. Goldenrod. Nodding onions,
some 18” tall. Hairy four o?clock just beginning to bloom. One Kansas gayfl ower with its spike of feathery
light purple fl owers. The season?s first smooth aster. Dark red chokecherries. Sun spots and ragleaf bahia,
two common summer daisies, just beginning to add more yellow to the land. Patches of blue grama grass
boasting a healthy yield of seeds that grow sideways off the top of the stem, looking like a crop of thin
mustaches, brown at the top, bleach blond below. Three feet tall Pacifi c sagewort.

This is just a short list of the plants that caught my eye on this morning walk. All in response to the
prolifi c rains of the last several weeks. Which are a result of early monsoon moisture. And an arrangement
of low and high pressure systems, and a jet stream, favorable to bringing moisture to these mountains. All
infl uenced by water temperatures in the Pacifi c Ocean along the equator, many thousands of miles from
these flourishing plants.

In contrast, the old weathered stone that I am sitting on appears unfazed by all the rain. True, the
process of turning this rock into mineral soil may have been furthered slightly, but I can?t see it. The lizard
that lives around this orange granite probably benefi ts from the increased insect population brought about
by the rains. The two healthy deer buck I saw earlier are positively impacted by the moisture, as all the
grasses provide excellent forage. And the young doe I had a staring contest with the other day (she ran, I
won) will grow stronger with so much good food. Next year, she may produce two healthy fawns, and both
may survive into adulthood.

And to think, all because of the ocean temperature a world away from this park. No doubt,
these temps are infl uenced by a multitude of factors, some within our science, some outside of
it. To say it is complex is an understatement. To say we understand how it all works is simply
not true. To say we?re going to manage it – well, that?s a joke!

Yet, we manage the earth?s forests, and oceans, and air – all components of the global
weather system that we understand rudimentarily at best – as if they belong to us, and us alone.
Our actions manifest the dominant cultural assumption that humans are the superior species, the
rest of the planet is here for us to use at our discretion, and it is our job to manage the earth. Our
culture teaches a dualism with humans on one side, everything else on the other. It says that, in
essence, we are separate from the rest of Creation. We are the planet managers.

I don?t buy it. So much of what I see and hear, and my intuition, and this 300 million year
old granite – all tell me this is wrong, and dangerous, thinking. Looked at historically, it is
actually new thinking. For most of human history, our species lived with a much more humble
view of our place in the world. I believe the future well-being of this earth requires a profound
shift in our species? view of our place in the world towards a whole lot more humility, and an
acceptance that we are only one among many species. In the 1994 words of author and professor
T.H. Watkins, “If we allow ourselves to put aside our arrogance long enough, perhaps we can
read the lesson written in the eyes of lizards and deer deep in the land of stone time: this world
and its creatures were not presented to us; we were joined to them in the exquisite saraband of
life. The arrangement was never meant to be a conquest, and it is more deeply complex than a
responsibility. It is a sharing.”

The voices, both human and nonhuman, telling us that we need to move beyond this dualistic
view of the world are getting louder. Just listen to the news. Something is very wrong. The
dominant culture?s worldview is analogous to a young child who hasn?t yet learned to share.
It?s not all just for him. It is time – past time – for the human species to let go of the myth that
we are the superior species in charge of the rest of the planet.

This does not mean that we are not an incredible species, capable of incredible things.
We are. We?re clever – just look at our inventions. We?re capable of intelligence, and reason,
and beauty, and compassion. Just listen to Mozart, or read Emerson, or think about Mother
Theresa. And we?re capable of sharing, with each other, and with our nonhuman neighbors. But
it is time we seriously redirect our incredible capabilities into managing what absolutely needs
managing. Ourselves.

~ Dave Van Manen, July 27, 2006